Choices
by CarelesslyCamouflaged
Summary: A chance encounter with an old flame... What choice will Nancy make?


Rising from the misty depths of sleep, she yawned and then winced at sunlight aggravating her eyes, making her conscious of the dull pounding of her head. She stretched and then froze, as the action brought her in contact with a warm body next to her. Further consciousness gave her fogged brain the information that she was naked, and that the body next to her probably was too. Afraid to open her eyes, and yet morbidly curious on finding out the extent of her folly, she cracked open an eye and looked beside her. 

A strong, masculine arm was flung across his face, obscuring all but his dark hair, but Nancy didn't need to see his face to know who he was. With a sinking feeling, the events of the previous night slowly trickled back into her brain...the music and the exuberant celebration of the end of the case...the fast dances that dwindled into steamy numbers and further into soft romantic love songs...the breathless rush from being held so closely in his arms...the buzz from the alcohol replaced by an even headier exhilaration as she stared into his intense dark eyes...inhibitions fading as she tilted her head and moved closer... 

She snapped out of her daydream when he stirred, rolling on to his back, the sheet sliding dangerously low and giving her a fascinating view of his muscular chest and abdomen. Nancy flushed as she remembered running her fingers and then her mouth along the cleanly sculpted lines, tasting him and relishing the tremors that rocked his body before he pounced on her and treated her to the same delicious torture... 

She was brought back to reality with a start as he moved again. With the pounding headache brought on by an over-indulgence of alcohol marring her thought process, all her confused mind registered was the need to get out of there before he woke up. She carefully slid out of bed and gathered her clothes, still blessedly numb of all emotions that were bound to strike her with a vengeance when she stopped to think about what she had done. Already she was conscious of embarrassment, a growing guilt and as she stopped at the door to look at him one last time, a sharp pang of regret.

*******************************************************

Nancy was standing at the mirror, applying her make-up and listening to Bess drone about her latest crush, whom they would be meeting at a party tonight. Her new job as personal assistant to the editor-in-chief of a major fashion magazine meant she had regular contact with lots of models, with quite a few of them male. Nancy smiled as she listened to Bess' excited gushing about Terry, who apparently not only had the most amazing smoldering green eyes, but also a most magnificent body which was soon to appear on the cover page of the magazines swimsuit edition. 

"Really, Nancy, he is so dreamy that your day just brightens up when you look at him! Being in my job you are surrounded by such fabulous looking people that you tend to get immune to it, but Terry is something else. Oh, those strong arms and that perfectly sculpted chest." Bess sighed. 

Nancy's face momentarily tightened as she remembered another perfectly sculpted chest from not that long ago, but she quickly banished the image and glanced unobtrusively at Bess to see if she had noticed. But for once, caught up in her own visions, Bess didn't notice Nancy's involuntary reaction, a fact that Nancy was thankful for. Both her friends had sensed that something was wrong ever since Nancy had turned up on Bess door step without a word. While George satisfied herself with concerned looks, Bess was bursting with curiosity to know what was wrong, though out of consideration, neither had said anything. 

She had been due some leave and felt the need to get away from it all, if only for a little while, so she had flown to LA from Chicago. The thought of spending time with Bess, and George, who was studying for a degree in sports medicine and was in LA for spring break, was cheering. She had enough things to be depressed about. _Like, Ned_, she thought miserably. 

Nancy wasn't sure why she hadn't yet told her best friends. She knew they wouldn't judge her for cheating on Ned, especially when they found out_ his _name. Maybe that's why she was so reluctant to tell them. They would want to talk about it, and talking about it meant she had to think about that night, and that was something she couldn't afford to. Her resolve to fight for her marriage was already dangerously weak. 

Ned had been devastated. He had deserved to know, and she had confessed as soon as she was back from Paris. She explained that she had been exceedingly drunk, and the release of tension after the case had gone to her head. But she also told him that it was a stranger. Any slim chance she had of salvaging her marriage would have vanished with _that _name. Ned had stormed off to Washington on the pretext of a conference. 

While Nancy was not surprised at his reaction, she was dismayed to find out that it didn't affect her as much as it should have. Dismayed, but again, not surprised. They had been fighting for months, no, years now, each fight based on a repetitive theme that was fast pushing Nancy to the point of indifference. More than once she had wondered why Ned had married her, or even more significantly, why she had said yes. Had he hoped that she would come to accept his vision of white picket fences, a nine-to-five job, kids and a dog? Had she thought that he would suddenly understand her passion for solving crimes and working out their intricate mysteries? Had she hoped that he would ever accept the fact that she relished the adrenaline surge brought on by flirting with danger, or the keen satisfaction she felt when she brought criminals to justice? He never had, and he no longer bothered to hide his resentment. It had only succeeded in driving Nancy to take more cases and spend more time away from the strained atmosphere at their apartment, which no longer felt like a home to her anymore. And she had met _him_...again... 

To get away from her turbulent thoughts and the familiar empty apartment, Nancy had packed her suitcase the day after Ned left and caught the first flight to LA. She spent every day strolling along the boulevards with George and Bess, when she was free, taking in the sights, relaxing and enjoying a true vacation as she hadn't in years, and yet it didn't succeed in banishing the cloud which seemed to have taken permanent residence over her head. And to her dismay, she found that Paris occupied her thoughts far more than her failing marriage. Even the vaguest of memories of that night had her stomach tightening involuntarily. 

Whatever success she had in controlling her thoughts during the day vanished at night. Her alcohol-dazed mind had managed to absorb a surprising amount of details from that night. Her dreams were vivid, of brown eyes smoldering with desire, of hands that caressed her quivering body, of kisses that left her breathless with need, of a man who wasn't her husband... She always woke from these dreams sweating, and aching with a queer sense of loss and despair. 

"Wow, Nan, you look fantastic!" exclaimed George, who was just coming into the room, distracting Nancy from her painful thoughts. Nancy glanced at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a blue off-the-shoulder number that lovingly hugged her body and stopped just short of her knees. But no amount of make-up could hide the paleness of her cheeks or shadows in her eyes. Years of stress were beginning to take their toll. She turned around to her friends with a wry grimace. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better." 

"No, seriously Nan, you do look great. There is just one thing that's spoiling the outfit." Bess stated. "What?" Nancy asked, searching for her earrings. "Your wedding ring," Bess said calmly. Nancy whirled around, shocked. "C'mon Nan, give us some credit. You think we didn't figure out that you are having problems with Ned?" George asked, exasperated. "You are just back from a case, and yet you are here while Ned is three thousand miles away. You haven't spoken to him or about him the entire time you were here. We did grow up with the smartest teen detective, you know!" Bess said fondly. 

Nancy hesitated, trying to find words to explain. "Look Nan, you don't need to explain anything to us until you are ready. But you are supposed to be having fun and relaxing, and if its something to do with Ned that's bothering you, then just for tonight, maybe you need to forget him." George said gently. Nancy felt tears prick her eyes as she realized exactly how much she had missed her friends, their ready warmth and sympathy. Living half a continent away meant that she could no longer jump in a car and drive up to their homes whenever she needed to talk or felt upset. She pulled Bess and then George into an impulsive hug, and with sudden firm resolution, she pulled off her ring and headed out the door. 

She was having a surprisingly good time at the party. So far she had met quite a few stars and supermodels and attracted a fair share of male attention herself. She had however refused to dance with any of them, preferring to talk instead. She kept a clear distance from the drinks, even though she was quite certain that she would do nothing stupid without a certain distracting influence. She had thought she was doing great. She had managed to more or less pay attention to what people were saying to her, it was much less of an effort to smile, and except for a couple of occasions when her mind had slipped, she was actually having fun. But she was beginning to feel increasingly restless, and the stirrings of a headache caused her to escape the heat of the ballroom and head out the French doors into the moonlit garden. 

She was ambling aimlessly along the paths, gazing at the stars and taking in the cool breeze when a prickle at the back of her neck made her turn around, to meet _his _eyes across the lawn and shrubbery. The world seemed to tilt at a crazy angle, and then suddenly everything seemed to fall into place. She didn't even stop to think about how he could have ended up in not only the same city, but also the same party as her. With a sense of inevitability, almost as if she were observing herself from outside her body, she made her way along the paths towards him. 

His eyes narrowed as she came to a stop in front of him. He was standing under a tree leaning against it in a seemingly casual pose but she could see the rigidity of his mouth and the hostility in his eyes, the barely concealed anger in their depths directed at her; and she was stunned to realize that it hurt deeply. More than any angry accusation or indifferent gesture Ned had ever made. Suddenly, what he thought of her mattered more to her than anything else in the world. She knew she had hurt him by stringing him along all these years, by drawing him close and then pushing him away. She had used her confused loyalty to Ned to hold him at arms length, using it as an excuse for her cowardice in facing the feelings he aroused in her. But she had slipped up in Paris. After years of no contact, meeting him had been like a breath of fresh air, her jaded cynicism replaced by the energy and the feeling of invincibility being with him always gave her. And it had gone to her head. She had crossed the line by sleeping with him and then disappearing without a word. 

A new fear arose, worry that this time she might have pushed him away irrevocably, that her inability to listen to her own heart had cost her the only thing that mattered to her now. But when concern replaced the anger in his eyes, and he reached out to touch her cheek with a rough whisper, "You've lost weight and you look pale", she felt everything in her melt into a pool of love and tenderness, all her doubts replaced with utter certainty. Her inner conflict resolved itself without a whisper. 

No more lies and no more denial. It wasn't fair to Ned, it wasn't fair to her and above all, it wasn't fair to _him_. He was her soul mate, her one true love. Caught in an impossible situation, they had done everything to keep each other at bay for years, and still they had found each other. With heartfelt relief and unbounded love shining in her eyes, she whispered his name on a broken sob, "Frank". When she saw his lips curve into the slow, tender half-smile he reserved only for her, and the warmth blazing from his eyes, she knew she had come home at last. 

Author's Note -:

I wrote this such a long time ago that I was pretty surprised when I stumbled across it recently, and I was even more stunned that it wasn't as crappy as I thought it would be! If I remember correctly, I wrote this around the time I read Secrets of the Nile, and I was again pretty pissed that they could ignore their chemistry and the fact that they were so perfect for each other. I have nothing against either Ned or Callie, but I've always felt that neither of them clicked with the respective partners as well as Frank and Nancy do. Of course, anyone would click with Frank, because he is quite simply perfect! :)


End file.
